


Oblivious Love

by clueless_nameless



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Long-Term Relationship(s), No Plot/Plotless, Romance, Slice of Life, literally it's mostly fluff, though honestly of everything ive ever written ever this has like no angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8007160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clueless_nameless/pseuds/clueless_nameless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It can be a hard thing to love someone and not even realise it, but it can be harder if you love someone and they don't realise it either. Hikaru and Haruhi are still discovering the way they feel for each other and for their fellow host club members. Hikaru is overcome with confusion about Haruhi and these new awkward feelings for her. The butterflies and nervousness are one thing, but what is this unnamed emotion he feels so strongly when even just thinking about her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oblivious Love

**Author's Note:**

> so like this fanfic is probably 6-7 years old and i just recently stumbled across it and decided to rewrite each chapter and post it. it's posted on my wattpad account (veriladaine), which i am rarely on, and there is like 11 chapters, but they're all super old writing, so i don't recommend reading that unless for some reason you just like cringing. but anyhooo, i'm going to start posting the newly edited chapters here and updating the old with new over there. that's all.

It was a cauldron of emotions he was feeling—raging, swirling, and confusing. Hikaru had no way to explain it, for he'd never experienced this before. 

He'd never been so close to someone before (never let them get close, before). 

The tightness in his chest (like he couldn’t breathe!) when she walked by, the anger in his stomach (he was a drowned man!) when she flirted easily with others even though it was her job! He didn't need to get jealo— _irritated_ ; and the deep longing in his heart (a man suffocated by her presence; still wishing for more) when she gave him her signature knowing-smirk.

She was small, cute, and predictably stubborn—a cookie-cutter ideal, really, but she was so much more than that. She wasn't some weak heroine, the damsel in distress, she was no maiden in need of rescuing, she was not the princess in the tower--locked away, helpless, and relying on someone to save her.

No... She was strong-willed, smart... and... kind. Endlessly kind. Not everyone would feel that way, upon meeting her--what, with her brutal honesty and almost stoic demeanour. But it was true, it was something Hikaru witnessed every moment he was with her.

She was kind. She was loyal. She was strong. She was...  _everything_.

He couldn't find the words to describe her, not in any accurate way, at least.

Haruhi, was just... She was Haruhi, and that was all that could be said on the matter. 

At the risk of sounding like a love-sick fool, which Hikaru often did when it concerned Haruhi: 'Love happened in the strangest of times, and the most awkward of places. Always.'

_Hey. Who said this was love? Certainly not me—_

It was the day’s end, and he was making his way to the clubroom with Haruhi, his brother having packed up early and rushed toward the room ( _read: doing his best to get two oblivious children to spend more time together_ ).

The door swung open easily and as always, it was a little breathtaking. That moment, so simple and sweet, of seeing these people who had changed his life—these _friends_ who, despite everything, had stuck together, supported each other, and… at the end of the day, would always be the most important to Hikaru and Kaoru both.

But then, reality would always hit—and hit hard.

And no, don’t get him wrong, he still loved each and every one of his lame rich friends (and Haruhi, who was infinitely cooler despite what a dork she was).

But… there was an agenda here. Despite being a club, it was more of a job. It wasn’t something small and trivial—it was something that had to represent him, and his friends, in a meaningful way. It couldn’t be some jokester club where nothing productive was done—no, it had to be useful to his future (to all of their futures).

And that was when the feeling of a _we_ at seeing his friends gathered for their little club wore away, and was replaced with an odd sense of formality.

Not to say that he couldn’t enjoy club activities, or have fun teasing Tamaki and harassing Kyouya… but, it wasn’t as pure as ‘just some friends hanging out’ as he’d like to think—it wasn’t about just meeting up and goofing around. It was about building skills—preparing for a _successful_ (and lucrative) future.

"Haruhi, go get changed please." Kyouya said by way of greeting, as the petite girl meandered into the Host Club's room after Hikaru—who’d paused, so awash in his feelings of apprehension. He wasn’t the type to dwell on things, and considered worrying about ‘making connections’ and ‘future-planning’ to be a waste of time.

But he was getting older, he was going to graduate, and he was going to be expected to run a company, or make changes in the world. He needed to take advantage of the role he had here, the connections he was making… but, he didn’t want to. He didn’t like thinking that way. It felt… fake. It felt as though these relationships (these friendships that were oh-so-very important to him) were all a farce. That bonds formed between people were not meant to be meaningful, but rather, to be useful.

He shook his head, as though he could shake out the negative thoughts like one would shake dirt from a rug.

Tamaki, meanwhile--the prince with his emotions on his sleeves--leapt up in his typical dramatic fashion, having finally noticed the arrival of his favourite and (probably) least favourite host.

He chose to ignore the latter, in favour of the former, going so far as to grab hold of her hand, placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles, as he knelt before her, "Haruhi, my dearest daughter, please put on the lovely outfit for your dearest father."

Kaoru snickered as she pulled her hand from Tamaki’s grasp and gave him a deadpan look, “If it’s something weird, again, I’m not wearing it.”

Kyouya jumped in, glasses flashing and notebook open, as he pointed figures out to Haruhi—probably bribing or coercing her into wearing whatever ridiculous theme the outfit was for.

Hikaru just sighed, moving over to Kaoru to sit.

He was… content with this—content with _not_ thinking about his future, with not changing the group’s formation, with not letting this club be just another means of furthering himself.

And so, he let himself get wrapped up in the club’s frivolity, and put on his charmingly mischievous smile—ready to host another day.

Entertaining the guests, flaunting a brotherly love, a forbidden love, was too easy, and the girls just lapped it up. Again, he spaced for what he thought was just a moment, glancing at Haruhi with her golden smile and her bright expression. By chance, her large beautiful eyes met his and a light blush rose on his cheeks, yet she just smiled easily at him.

How could a girl as oblivious as Haruhi make his heart race?

_And how could he get hers to race in the same exhilarating way she made his heart pound?_

After a day full of (what he and Kaoru joking dubbed) ‘twincest’, and the occasional inconspicuous, jealous glance at Haruhi and the girl's that flocked around her so lovingly, Hikaru and his lovable brother, Kaoru made their way out of Music Room #3. 

Haruhi had already left early (something about a sale for radishes and her needing to be there before the shop closed), so there wasn't much of a point for Hikaru to dilly dally and wait for an excuse to talk to (and tease) her. Tamaki seemed to have had the same plan, and was just as disappointed as Hikaru himself—though Tamaki was infinitely more verbal about it.

Hikaru shook his disappointment off.

_Oh well, there is always tomorrow; that's our day off, anyways!_

Hikaru perked at the thought of those precious hours he could try and spend with her. Although, that was usually what the mischievous twin hoped for--some time alone with little Haruhi, that is—but, as of yet, he still hadn't even gotten the courage to ask her to hang out, let alone ask her to hang out with him alone. 

_What's the problem!? You went on a "date" with her in Kaoru's stead. Why can't you just ask her now?_ He huffed, _I just need to… to… get some courage. It can’t be that hard. What’s the worst she could say?_

The thought _‘Kaoru did it, why can’t you?’_ bounced through his head once more, and he felt a little bit of anger and jealousy flare in the pit of his stomach, like a dragon guarding its treasure. The sweet look in his brother's eye, though, when Hikaru looked to him, settled it right back down. He couldn't do anything but love his precious brother. _His other half._

That night he talked little to Kaoru, still pondering about what he should do about Haruhi.

What he felt for her was so strong, so visceral, and real.

He'd never felt this before, and he couldn't explain it. No one had ever seen the true him, the individual, aside from Kaoru, so he’d never felt the need to look further than his brother—never felt the need to make friends, since they’d only see his name and title, and disregard the rest.

 Haruhi was different, she saw through him--saw through him and Kaoru both. They were seen as something more than ‘the twins’. They were individuals, and one person. They were halves of the same whole, yet, they were each their own. They were ‘two peas in a pod’, but if you could break into that pod—break their shell (their shields), then you’d see they were each their own person, as well.

She understood that, and never questioned it, never tried to push them apart, never tried to change they inherently were. But she let them know that she _understood_. 

_When someone can understand you so deeply.. is this.. is this what happens? Is that why I feel this_   _way about her?_

Hikaru turned in bed, looking at Kaoru's sleeping form—he fidgeted in his sleep, brows furrowed… maybe Kaoru was just as worried as Hikaru was.

Although, why would he be worried? What would be worrying him? 

Hikaru wasn’t sure, and he felt guilty for not knowing. He should really be paying more attention to his brother—he’d been so caught up in Haruhi and how he should deal with _that_ situation; that he hadn’t even considered how his brother felt about it all.

Kaoru had tried and failed with Haruhi; she'd turned him down. Yet despite his guilt, jealousy sprung up again,  _but not before he kissed her!_  Hikaru closed his eyes, sighing angrily, and gradually let sleep take him to a less complicated place. 

His last thought being,  _what would it be like if I could kiss her?_


End file.
